


Two Suns

by flowergfs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hook-Up, Love Triangles, M/M, Miscommunication, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29932194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowergfs/pseuds/flowergfs
Summary: When Hinata and Oikawa reunite in Brazil, their chemistry was undeniable. At first, they both want to believe it was their love of the game and the heat of the sun that made their faces so flushed, but as the summer nights refused to cool off they couldn’t run from the truth any longer. After all, everybody knows the bond between setter and spiker is unlike any other, but they always assumed that meant the ones they left back home in Japan.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25
Collections: Haikyuu Big Bang 2020





	1. Prologue

_Ever since middle school Shoyo knew about hard work. Never a stranger to sweat and pain, once he sets his eyes on a goal he’s always done everything possible to make it happen. And yet, he’s fallen short of those goals so often. High school wasn’t what he, or the rest of the Karasuno volleyball team, planned. Losing before the finals in his first year followed Shoyo around like a shadow he never asked for._

_But friends followed him around, too. And maybe that’s why he could look towards Brazil with such excitement. He had never been alone before, and as he boarded that plane he had no reason to believe that would change._


	2. Hinata, Brazil, 2016

The hot sand prickled my feet as I looked out towards the horizon. My muscles ache in the most satisfying way. It’d only been a handful of months since I landed, but already I was so much stronger than before. Everyone warned me beach volleyball was an entirely different battleground, and that’s exactly what called me to the sand. The game needed different skills, but it fed my addiction to getting stronger like nothing back home in Japan could have provided.

 _This is worth it,_ I thought to myself. _It has to be._

But there was something nagging at me. The loneliness crept in when I had these moments of stillness. It was just me, the sand, the sun, and the ocean. Birds chirped as they flew overhead, but I was still more alone than he had ever been before, and this didn’t sit well at all. The months before I left Japan, I considered the weight of missing everyone back home, but dismissed it quickly, sure that any possible homesickness would be smaller than the excitement and joy I’d feel on this new journey.

Pedro was nice, and his company was better than being truly alone, but it wasn’t nearly enough to replace what I lost. Even in middle school before I _really_ knew Kageyama, in a way, my whole life revolved around him. That tournament when we were younger struck me like lightning. Sure, I was impressed with his volleyball abilities. I mean, the way he set was life changing, but that was never all there was. He was so goddamn beautiful I’ve never forgiven him for it. Those long practice sessions always gave me butterflies. He was so close to me back then, and the way he slowly began to need me as much as I needed him was the best feeling he could have given me. Tobio never wanted to admit it, but we fell in love with more than just winning during those long nights. 

The sun was beating down on me so hard my t-shirt that used to feel light was beginning to be weighed down with sweat. This was always the tell-tale sign to go home and rest. Or, go back to my apartment and rest. There still is no home here. 

Staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, I forced a smile. Tobio once told me it was the best part about me. How I was always happy even after we ran out of reasons to be. Something about my face looked wrong now, though. The rest of me looked bigger and more defined, but my face was off. The bags under my eyes were faint, but there, and my smile looked (and felt) out of place. Loneliness was in no way a good look on me, that much was clear. 

“You good in there?” Pedro asked from the other room. I guess I _had _been in here a while, but I could have sworn I’d only been staring at myself for a few seconds.__

____

“Yeah, I’m fine” I murmured back, hoping he could hear me because I wasn’t sure if my voice would go any louder. 

____

I came out into the living room, and tried my hardest not to sigh dramatically. I wanted him to ask me what was wrong so badly, even though he already sort of did and I had already sort of brushed him off. Whatever’s gotten into me lately felt uncomfortable in my chest, too heavy for me to carry it on my own, but the thought of letting anyone know seemed like a worse fate. 

____

“You wanna eat dinner with me?” I asked Pedro, hoping he would say yes. 

____

He silently shook his head no, so I retreated into my room without turning the lights on. It would have been easy to flop onto my bed and turn in for the night, but instead I found myself sitting in the corner on the floor. The dull glow of my phone just highlighted my lock screen: a group photo of all of us from our third year. 

____

Tobio’s face was wrinkled in discontent the way it always was. Any stranger looking at this photo would think he wanted to be anywhere but there, but we knew the truth. He still showed his love stiffly, but he got warmer over the years. After Nationals our first year he wrapped his arms around me in the locker room, crying just quiet enough I seemed to be the only one who could hear. That was the beginning, really. 

____

From then on we had softer moments together, even with the team around. Nobody said a word as we drifted closer together, our bodies constantly tangled on the bus to tournaments or his hand in mine in the hallways. But even with Kurasano never minding, we still found ourselves jumping apart depending on who wandered by. To this day I don’t even know what we were afraid of, but god I wish it was something we could have overcome. 

The light of the phone dimmed, and my stomach turned inside out as I realized how long I had been staring at the photo. _He’s gone. He’s moved on,_ I reminded myself for the thousandth time since he left. Or, I guess since _I_ left. 

My stomach turned over on itself, and my appetite disappeared entirely. Nights like these were common since the move. As embarrassing as it was, my stomach never strengthened since high school. Anxiety tore through my body routinely, but I did my best to ignore it. In high school I could smile through the uncertainty, even if people saw through it they still put faith in my optimism. Now, I have very little optimism left without Tobio looking my way for silent reassurance. 

_The night’s still young,_ I reminded myself. The best part of Brazil is the warm nights: always welcoming me back to the beach. 

I avoided eye contact with Pedro, worried he’d judge me for heading out again. He said nothing as I slipped out the door. Losing my wallet meant there was no way I could afford anything special for dinner tonight, but my stomach was still uneasy, anyway. 

The best part of biking around Rio was the familiarity of it, even when I got myself lost. The even tempo of my feet and my breathing reminded me of back home. Reminded me of how much I’ve already given this dream of mine, how hard I’ve always worked. The hills and the warm breeze tasted like coming home from late night practice at Karasuno. 

The beach called to me again, so I listened. Riding my bike through the neighborhoods, somehow taking new streets I didn’t quite recognize yet, but still, I ended back at the beach. The salt air prickled against my skin as I slipped out of my shoes and headed towards the sand. 

My stomach twisted as I approached the already in progress game. Back home, even after falling short so many times, people recognized me. They knew my name. I was somebody, _The Greatest Decoy,_ and they loved me. 

But here, I was a stranger. My name was foriegn on everybody’s lips, just as their language fell clumsily out of my mouth for the same reasons. Each beach game was new, and somewhere I had to earn a place at. Pedro helped when we went to games together, but now I was alone. The loneliness often made me question what I was doing, but tonight my body acted on instinct. 

I approached the game, feeling lost, but also feeling compelled to move forward. And then, the sound of casual conversation behind me sent chills down my spine, yet also warmed my stomach from the inside out. 

_Japanese._

Before even registering the moment, I turned around. And there he was. 

“Great King?” 


	3. Oikawa, Brazil, 2016

The last thing I expected to see on this beach was Hinata Shoyo. But there he was, standing there like a wide eyed fool. He beamed from ear to ear, but his smile was somehow different now. It used to light up an entire gymnasium, now it was a flickering candle, the glow barely big enough for the two of us. We stood staring at each other for half a moment, each a relic of the other’s past that we had no real ownership of. He was always Tobio’s, or an obstacle. There was a selfish part of me that wanted that dull candle light of his smile to stay mine. After all, I was always jealous of Tobio for getting to set to him, getting to win with someone like that by his side, trusting each other entirely. The two of them could command a room like no other duo I’ve ever seen, and yet time and distance separated them just like everyone else. 

“Great King?” he stammered out, the light growing just a little bit brighter. 

This made me smile, too. 

“Great Ki-- I mean, Oikawa-san, what are you doing here?” As he spoke, he came to life. 

“Uhh, that’s my question, thanks. Don’t steal it?” I asked, somehow thrown off balance. My face burned hot as I fumbled the words together, my teammates looking at me more and more confused by the second. 

“Me? I came to train on the beach.” 

“Huh, sheesh,” I struggled, “You are a scary one shortie pie.” Surely playfully insulting him would help me gain my footing. It’s not like me to lose the upper hand so easily, but this isn’t the first time Hinata’s confidence knocked me off balance. 

“Tohru, do you know him?” My teammates asked innocently in English. There’s no way Hinata doesn’t know at least a little English, and yet-- 

“Yeah, um, he’s a middle schooler living in my neighborhood” I replied, hoping to bring him down just enough. 

His smile dimmed slightly, and his cheeks flushed. “Oikawa-san, I do understand basic English, y’know.” He grabbed his bicep nervously. 

My teammates laughed, and headed off to dinner. I could have gone with them, walked away from this beach, from him, left it all standing here the way I’ve left every other piece of Japan. But I stayed. 

I stayed, I stayed, I stayed. 

“Hey Oikawa-San let’s play some volleyball I want to—“ Shoyo beamed. 

“You know, I was just getting ready to head to dinner. Show me where the good places are around here,” I winked. 

“I… uh, lost my wallet,” Shoyo replied sheepishly. Although he’s gotten older, he was still as oblivious as always. That must have driven poor Tobio up a wall. Asking for things directly was never his strength. 

“It’s on me,” I smiled at him. 

He led us toward a restaurant that seemed nice enough. It bustled with energy, and for just a second I was concerned it would be too loud. Neither one of us has ever been accused of shyness, but still I wanted to soak up every ounce of him. Reality had snuck into his life sometime since high school, maybe sometime since that fateful national tournament his first year. Doubt and disappointment nestled next to wherever he kept that famous Hope of his. But still,, even with the stress visible on his face, he glowed with excitement. Every moment we spent walking and talking life breathed back into him. His smile got wider and his eyes regained their sparkle. 

It was worth every lonely night to watch him come alive again before my eyes. 

“Have you watched any of Kageyama’s games lately?” Shoyo asked innocently after our food arrived. 

There was a catch in my throat before I could speak. I leaned back into the restaurant booth, doing my best nonchalant impression. “No.” 

His trusting eyes flickered with disbelief, but he didn’t linger there. No use applying pressure to a wound that’s already stopped bleeding on its own. The best thing to do then is to avoid aggregating it further, so he pushed his food around his plate a little before changing topics. 

“How’d you end up in Argentina?” 

This question was easy, so I answered in depth. The crowds chanting my name have always been a delight, but nothing is better than an audience of one held captive to my every word. I told him about the match I watched as a kid with Iwa-Chan. I didn’t even stutter over Iwazumi’s name, barely mentioning him in the brief history of my life. Stuck to the bigger details. The important details. Me. 

“You know, I figured I pulled a pretty crazy stunt doing all this,” I finished as Shoyo clung to my every word. “But to come all the way to the other side of the world just to play beach volleyball?” 

He grinned, barely even registering what I actually said. “Hey speaking of, let’s go play right now! People are out playing on the beach until pretty late around here.” 

“So you think you can take me on?” I leaned across the table, staring into his eyes. “You’ve gotten really big headed, huh, shorty pie.” Our faces hovered close together. 

He didn’t break his smile once, and we headed to the beach. 

***

_I’m a professional,_ my mind repeated over and over as the sand gave out beneath me just as often. 

Every time I fumbled, my face got hot knowing Shoyo was looking at me, and more importantly, beating me. With every movement, Shoyo’s muscles rippled and flexed. The sweat gleamed in the night lights, highlighting the definition of his forearms, biceps, shoulders… 

The ball sailed over the net again and I foolishly tried to push off on the sand. Again, it slipped beneath me, and I hit my knees hard on the otherwise soft ground. My face got hotter. 

“Good effort,” Shoyo assured. My face got hotter. 

Repeat, repeat, repeat. 

“This isn’t like me,” I mumble after the game. 

“Well beach volleyball is a lot harder than in a gym,” he smiled. “It’s taken me a while to learn how to work _with_ the sand, and not against it like you’ve been doing.” Shoyo laughed and took a drink of his water. Everything about him was dazzling, and I regretted ever catching his attention. 

“You’re incredible,” I mutter. None of this moment seemed real, like a daydream or a nightmare. When Shoyo smiled, I could feel Tobio glaring smugly over his shoulder. 


	4. Hinata, Brazil, 2016

After the game, I wanted so badly to ask him to stay. To have him stick around with me even though he doesn’t have any real reason to. Instead, there was a catch in my throat and I just smiled at him like a fool. 

“Where are you staying these days, Shoyo?” He wiped his sweat with his towel and draped it around his neck. 

“With Pedro!” I blurt out before processing that he does not know who Pedro is. 

He drops his head and laughs, the corner of his mouth turns upward into a sly smirk. “Oh Shoyo,” his voice lowers, “Pedro is very lucky to get to keep your company” 

“You could keep my company, also” I say absent mindedly. “I just mean, it’s lonely here” I follow up with. 

“It is, isn’t it?” He replies, softer now than I have ever seen him before. Tohru has always been a performer, maybe even longer than he’s been a volleyball player, but the consequence is never getting to take that mask off as long as people are watching. 

“I don’t think it has to be,” I step closer to him. 

“Hmm?” 

“Come over, like, to my place. At least for a little while?” 

“It’s late,” he grins. 

“It is,” I nod, and we begin to walk away from the beach. 

***

Tohru leaned up against the wall of my apartment building as I fumbled a little too much with the keys. No light escaped from under the door. Pedro must be asleep, and I worried slightly about waking him. That was gone in an instant, though. 

“Think I’ll get to meet this famous Pedro?” Tohru drew out. 

I shook my head and tried not to laugh as I opened the door. Tohru reached for the door as I began to twist the door knob, pushing on the wood eagerly, and as a consequence pushing towards me. His arm moved over my shoulder, and brushed my cheek as it passed. I blushed and hurried through the door frame. He followed. 

“It’s nothing special,” I trail off as I reach my hand out to the wall, fumbling for one of the light switches I still haven’t memorized the location of. 

As I flick the lights on, he cuts in, “Well it’s not a hotel room.” We both dart our eyes around the living room, taking in the humble sights: the bare walls, the small couch, the TV sitting on its unsteady stand, the carpet fraying at the edges as it runs into the tile of the kitchen. And then the kitchen itself: counters that would be cluttered if we had much to clutter them with, a fridge with a few small pictures on the front, the wooden table that wobbles only if you put too much pressure on one side. 

_If it was a hotel room it would be a lot nicer,_ I think. He is surely thinking the same thing, but doesn’t say it. 

Tohru finds a seat on my couch, and looks up at me, silently saying _Come here._

I back away, leaning up against the table, careful not to push too much on the bad side. It creaks quietly, and Tohru cocks his head to one side in confusion. 

If Pedro woke up and walked out here he wouldn’t have any reason to stop and question Tohru, although I’ve never brought a guest over before. We are worlds away from where our histories meant anything but I can’t think of how devastating this scene would be to Tobio. Somebody should stop us; somebody should say something, a warning, anything. 

“Is something wrong?” Tohru asked. He is so beautiful in this moment, just as he was back on the beach, and just as he was back in school. He’s the exact opposite of Tobio in just about every way, but maybe that is exactly what draws me in. 

I shake my head no, and cross the living room. “Everything is perfect,” I say as I reach my hand out towards him and brush his hair out of his eyes. 

He reaches up fast, and puts his hand on my waist, pulling me into him. I land on his lap, knees straddling either side of him. Our foreheads touch and I look longingly into his eyes. He is looking back, and we are frozen like this breathing heavily. 

My ears burn hot, but I do not think about Tobio somewhere half a world away talking about me to his teammates. I do not think about his lips as mine meet Tohru’s. I do not think about how similar their jawlines are, or how they have almost identical calluses on their fingertips. Tobio was nowhere to be found in this living room as Tohru slid his hands under my shirt and bit my lip. 

“My room…” I moaned, glancing quickly to my door. It wasn’t likely that Pedro would come out into the living room, but the risk wasn’t non-existent. 

Oikawa laughed as he moved his arms from my back to my legs, picking me up effortlessly. I tucked my face into the crook of his neck, biting the inside of my lip. 

“This way?” He asked as he carried me away. 

He didn’t drop me, even as one of his hands let go of me in order to open my door. He breathed into my ear and then tossed me onto my bed. 

“Show off,” I groaned. 

He grinned, standing at the end of my bed. I sat up, grabbing his waist and pulling him closer to me. I tugged at his shirt, and he pushed me back into the bed, kissing me passionately. 


	5. Oikawa, Brazil, 2016

The light came in through the bedroom window. _Hinata’s bedroom window._ We didn’t drink at all, but the night before was a blur. Snapshots of Shoyo on the beach, in the restaurant, in the dim light of his bedroom came back in waves. And there he was, sleeping soundly as proof that I didn’t imagine the unexpected night before. 

His hair had fallen into his softly shut eyes as he slept. Absentmindedly, I brushed the hair out of his eyes, his skin warm to the touch. Since leaving japan the beds I found myself in were cold and lonely, even if I wasn’t technically alone. This was different, though. He looked nothing like Iwa-chan lying on his side, but nevertheless his bed was warm. It was cozy here, a stark contrast to the hotel room I should have woken up in. 

Shoyo rolled onto his back and stretched his arms towards the ceiling. 

“Good morning,” I hummed. 

His breathing quickened for a half second, as if he also forgot that we ended up here. As if he expected to wake up alone. 

“Good morning Tob—Tohru,” he stuttered. I did not flinch at this; of course we looked the same in this light. 

I contemplated leaning forward and kissing him, or worse kissing his cheek friendly and quick. There were a million ways to close this gap between us: some a promise of a future (even a small one) but others would reduce us to this moment forever. A flickering moment of homesickness we both would forget soon enough. 

“How long are you here?” He said after a little while. The question was small enough on the surface. My team was in town for a little over a week and as long as we didn’t get injured they never cared where we went during our off time. But fuck, was Shoyo of all people kicking me out? 

“In Rio?” I shrugged, “‘bout a week.” 

He sat up and grinned. “No,” he leaned towards me, “How long are you _here?”_

I reached my hand up to his face, my fingers gently resting on his jaw line, “As long as you want me.” 

Kissing Hinata in the morning, our teeth unbrushed, our hair a mess, our lives nowhere I thought they’d be, was an absolute dream. Our bodies fit together instinctively, as if neither one of us was imagining the other shape shifting into ghosts of our past. 

“Come to the beach with me,” Shoyo asked, his eyes finally sparkling like they used to. He grabbed my hand and rubbed his thumb across mine. 

“Of course,” I smiled, kissing him again. 

I looked around the room, trying to find where my clothes ended up. Shoyo’s room is practically empty, so it doesn’t take much effort to see them strewn about the otherwise vacant floor. The only downside is our clothes are mixed together, and separating them was just barely too much of a chore for the moment. 

“Just wear something of mine,” Shoyo sighed. He was still shorter than me, but not by much anymore, so he had a point. Wearing his clothes made sense to just go to the beach, but also it was weird. Nobody here would even notice, probably. As much as I pretend otherwise, I’m not famous. I don’t draw a crowd. Most of Shoyo’s clothes seem to be plain white t-shirts that wouldn’t even make a statement as not my own. 

He hopped out of bed and went to his dresser, tossing me something simple without looking too hard. The sun came in through the window and highlighted his unclothed body, his muscles somehow even more prominent than the night before. Maybe it was because I was still in bed, looking up at him slightly, or maybe it was because I never hung around this long after a hookup, but everything about him seemed different in the morning light. 

Yesterday, he was just Shoyo, Tobio’s perfect little spiker, the enchanting middle blocker. But now? Now Rio has hardened him, yet there are somehow cracks for the light to pour through. The sunlight hit his hair just right, illuminating his whole head like a halo. 

We made it to the beach early. The walk felt farther than it did the night before, but the sun has that effect more often than I’d like to admit. The entire way Shoyo/s hand brushed against mine casually, but he never dared to grab it. His gaze kept steady ahead as he talked about how excited he was to show me more of the tricks he learned about playing on the sand. Every now and then he glanced my way, his smile brighter than it was when I first saw him yesterday. But there was no blushing or shyness. He wasn’t nervous around me at all. 

And I hated it. 

Because I was nervous. 

Nervous about what this was this morning, this morning walk to the beach wearing his clothes. About what last night was, our bodies tangled together. About where this was going, unsure of what he wants from me knowing I’ll just be getting on a plane before we know it. I never give my hook-ups this type of time or the upper hand. The only one who has ever had this type of hold over me was Iwa-chan, and it’s been so long since he even picked up the phone. 


	6. Iwaizumi, Japan, 2013

During high school, Hajime spent most of his time with Toru naturally. They were in the gym every day they could manage, constantly setting and spiking and setting and spiking until their bodies were bruised and tired. When they would eventually leave, the two of them managed to spend even more time together. The lovely thing about being boyhood friends is how little their parents minded the other one. Hajime became a regular sight at the Oikawa residence, and the same went for Tohru at the Iwaizumi home. 

The two families silently accepted the way the boys preferred to stay by each other's side. Hajime would often follow Tohru home because he worried about him, although nobody commented on this fact. They ate dinner together, and Hajime lectured Toru on the importance of self care. Some nights this was a cute and gentle exchange: laughing heavily from the belly as he wrapped an ice pack around Toru’s knee. 

Other nights it was painful and pleading. Everyone else knew Tohru loudly, always standing strong and steady and dazzling everyone in his wake, but Hajime saw him come undone more than once. Something about the way tears welled up in his eyes but he refused to make a sound as he tried to straighten his leg after sitting for a while filled Hajime with a fear he didn’t entirely understand. Realistically, nothing was severely wrong with him. He was just an athlete, someone committed to using every ounce of physical strength that he had every day. It’s easy to watch a game and marvel at the way players jump and dive all around the court, and any athlete who works as hard as Oikawa does makes it look so easy, but few people get to see the gritty truth of it all. 

These days it was harder for Hajime to find time to get away from university. Everyone had warned him how time consuming school would become, and he hadn’t necessarily not believed them, but he didn’t think it would be like this. Today, he was lucky. Today, he was driving as fast as he could to meet Toru at his house for the first time in weeks. 

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation at every red light. Tohru would make fun of me so much if he saw me now, he thought. His cheeks began to turn hot, and for the first time this drive he felt thankful that he still had a little ways to go. 

The two of them found themselves like they always did: entwined on Oikawa’s bedroom floor, so close they almost occupied the same space. _My whole life could be this forever,_ Hajime thought for just a moment. Oikawa never answered questions about the future directly, but Hajime knew he had plans bigger than staying around here. After all, Tohru was always planning. 

“I’m leaving, Iwa-chan,” he said matter of factly, practically out of the blue. 

Hajime perked his head up from Tohru’s lap. “Leaving, to where?” 

“Somewhere great.” 

Tohru stared at the ceiling, a record spun, and Hajime sighed. More vagueness, more inability to make a solid plan. There was so much Tohru wanted to accomplish, and yet he never let anybody in on it. Like making a wish on a dandelion as a child, too concerned with the delicateness of desire to speak even a whisper. 

***

“Do you have to go?” Hajime asked Tohru quietly. His hand rested gently on Tohru’s chest, the space between them growing even as the physical distance remained the same. 

“I do,” Oikawa whispered back before kissing him. 

“You better call me every day,” Hajime laughed. Neither one of them mentioned the tears welling in his eyes as he said this. Neither one of them acknowledged the lie Oikawa told in response. 

“Of course.” 

It was getting late, and still they were standing in the doorway of Hajime’s bedroom. Oikawa was set to leave in the morning, and needed to get some rest before the long plane ride a half a World away. Still, they stayed in that doorway, not ready to go to bed, not ready to leave the next day. 

“Take care of yourself in Argentina,” Hajime pleaded, and Oikawa kissed him softly in confirmation. 

Months later, Hajime called Tohru from his apartment. They lived 12 hours apart now. Half a day, half a world. The phone rang several times, and Hajime cut the line before Tohru had a real chance to answer. 

It was safer this way, never actually learning what he was up to. Never having to circle around the same conversation over and over, instead just ignoring their reality altogether instead. 

He stopped calling in the first place, partially hoping Tohru would pick up the slack but secretly grateful he didn’t dare. They never officially ended things. Just let the line go dark on either side, wishing the other was brave enough to bring things back. 

Hajime threw himself into his studies, learning how the body worked and fell apart and how he could help put it back together. Every injury he studied reminded him of Tohru, and he begged the universe that the trainers and physicians that worked with him knew how special he was. How important he was. How badly he needed to be taken care of because otherwise he would run himself ragged and fizzle out before he got to accomplish his dreams. He was a professional now, so _of course_ he was surrounded by competent doctors, but still Hajime worried. 

Tohru on the other hand preferred to pretend he had already forgotten Hajime. He tried his best to catch everyone’s attention, to enchant everyone he came in contact with. Men and Women alike stumbled into his hotel rooms, and he pretended to love the attention. 

The worst part was that he _did_ love the attention, at least a little. He always loved when strangers bowed to his will, begging for even an ounce of his love. In the past, they begged for him and he led them on just enough to make Hajime’s face hot with jealousy, but it never went any further. Now that they weren’t speaking, things were different, and the guilt lasted only for a night as his admirers floated in and out. Nobody stuck around long enough for anything to _really_ count. There was never romance, never intimacy. Only desire. 


	7. Hinata, Brazil, 2016

The beach was quiet in the morning, like it often is. A few people were there, taking walks or heading to the water, but the nets were empty. The whole walk over I laughed with Tohru, but couldn’t bring myself to really look his way. I could feel his gaze steady on me, but the reality of last night had not sunk in yet. 

“Come on, I wanna see you struggle again,” I called out as I picked up speed heading towards the net. When I turned around, Oikawa was standing there where I left him. Slowly, a smile came across his face and he followed after me. 

“You may have had me beat yesterday, but don’t count on that happening twice,” He smirked as I tossed the ball his way. 

He fumbled over the sand just as he did the night before. His footing was no more steady, and there was no reason for it to be. It took me months to get as good as I have, and Oikawa thought he could master it in a night. Such a proud man, much more like Tobio than either one would like to admit. 

After crashing into the sand over and over, Oikawa stood up proudly. “Almost had that one,” He lied and stretched toward the sun. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and exhaustion appeared to overtake him for a moment. He groaned, and grabbed his shirt collar, _my shirt collar,_ and flicked it over his head swiftly. His chest glistened in the morning sun, light bruises barely visible in the shape of my mouth under his collarbone. 

His hair was a softer brown in the light, a huge difference between him and Tobio. I rolled their names around in my head wondering how different it would be if Tobio was on this beach. If he would play with me on the beach like this. If he would be willing to be bad at something again, for me. 

“Go again,” I called, grinning and dropping low ready to receive. 

Oikawa grabbed the ball again, spinning it in his hands as he moved back in the sand to serve. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. With his eyes shut, I rushed forward ducking under the net. 

In one fluid motion, I knocked the ball out of his hand and grabbed his face. It startled him and he stumbled backwards but I didn’t let go. Just followed with him as we moved along the sand towards the ground. He was clumsy, but I had never been more comfortable. 

I landed on top of him, my knees straddling either side of his stomach as he laid in the hot sand. I giggled because the scene was so ridiculous. He didn’t laugh at first, but slowly he did. 

I leaned down to kiss him while we both laughed, the sun hot on my back even though it was still early in the morning. The nearby shorebirds squawked, which almost pulled us out of this moment, but it also was comforting in a strange way. It was as if those birds were assuring me that this moment was even real, grounding us both in reality. 

I moved off of him, falling down into the sand next to him. The grit of the sand found its way into my shirt and shorts, but I didn’t mind much. Oikawa continued to look up towards the sky. He was almost definitely less accustomed to the gentle burn of the hot sand, or the way it’ll rub your skin raw if you aren’t careful. His bare back must have hit the ground hard, no thanks to me, but he didn’t flinch as he fell or wince as he laid there next to me. 

I kissed his cheek, and then pulled him up to his feet. 

“Sorry I couldn’t resist.” 

He ran his fingers through his hair and smirked. “It’s okay, I _let_ you do that.” 

His emphasis on let made my face feel hot from more than just the sun beating down on us. He was just trying to be difficult, trying to look cool for an audience of no one. An audience of just me. 

But it worked. I kissed him again. 

We kissed so many times on that beach. The sun hot on our sweaty post-workout skin, the birds singing their loud and obnoxious songs, and the occasional person just wandering by that didn’t even look our way more than once. 

Nothing mattered to me except for Tohru’s hands on my body, and in my hair. We were loving each other so loudly and in public it felt sacrilegious and holy at the same time. We held hands in the sand as tourists and locals alike passed us by, nobody whispering. 

Nobody here on this beach knew who’s hand I was supposed to be holding. They had no reason to assume this affection was dammed. That we were ticking time bombs of adultery waiting for the explosion to sound the alarms. 

When we walked through the streets to the restaurant we went for dinner the night before, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder delicately. I reached that arm up, lacing my fingers with his and as we navigated the city I pointed out every detail I had learned. Tohru listened eagerly, nodding along and adding _mhm_ as I explained what my life here consisted of. 

Inside the restaurant was busier than when we had dinner. The lights were brighter during the day, but they were also brighter than every other time I’ve eaten at this cozy spot. The chatter surrounded us, Portugese filling my ears and rattling around. By now, I caught most of it but it was still so easy to tune it out and focus on Oikawa. 

As he ate he rested his chin on one of his hands. He smiled like a celebrity as he spoke, this time making it my turn to nod and say _mhm._ The light hit his face just right, illuminating his deep brown eyes in the most magical way. 

“I’ve been having a really hard time,” he sighed. “But I think meeting you here was a sign.” His voice was dreamy as he trailed off. 

“I think so too,” I blushed. 

It was true. The ache in my chest had softened since he arrived. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and the world was brighter now that he was here with me. 

“I mean it, I mean, I love Argentina and I’ve loved playing professionally but, well, it’s been lonely.” He played with his food a little before taking a bite and chewing slowly. Tohru was looking down at the table now, but I kept my eyes on him. “But I feel lighter now, happy.” He glanced up at me on that last word, but quickly looked back down. 

I reached my hand out, grabbing his free hand after he rested it on the table. We stayed like that for a few moments, everything warm and safe around us. My lips parted to speak, but I had no words in mind. No words were enough for this situation. Everything was as it should be. 


	8. Oikawa, Brazil, 2016

Shoyo blushed at the table. My cheek felt heavy in my hand, but I was too dazed to hold my head up on its own. 

“You know, you aren’t the only lonely or homesick one,” he mumbled shyly. His hand was warm in mine. 

I perked my head up from my hand. He required my full attention now. 

“I don’t regret coming here at all,” he continued, “But it hasn’t been easy. Not even close.” His eyes flickered to the table, to our hands resting together on the table. 

I smiled back, “No. Not even close.” His eyes remained fixed on our hands between us. I could feel his heartbeat through his finger tips. He could probably feel mine back. 

He looked nothing like Iwa-chan, did not sound like Iwa-chan, did not feel like Iwa-chan, and yet I couldn’t get him out of my head. It was a secret blessing that Shoyo was avoiding eye contact right now. 

“Do you miss him?” I asked, unsure why those words even left my lips. The answer would either be painful or a lie. 

“Who?” He asked innocently. 

_A lie._

I swallowed hard. “Tobio.” 

He shook his head and looked back up at me. Our hands still met in the middle of the table, the restaurant still buzzed around us. 

“Of course. But how could I not?” He smiled, “I miss all of Karasuno. After all I wouldn’t be here without them.” 

For almost a second I believed him, but the truth lingered between us, stuck in the air. He smiled, but I could feel the weight of the past. 

I pulled my hand away from his, “But you are here without them.” 

He glanced around nervously. I don’t know why I was pushing the situation, but I also couldn’t let it go. 

“I mean look at yourself,” I continued, the words leaving my mouth before I could even process them, “You’re here all on your own. Nobody else is doing what you are doing, Shoyo. He gets the spotlight, just like he did then, but _please_ just look at yourself. Karasuno couldn’t even finish the tournament without you, you were always the star, why would you--” 

He kissed me, the words still stumbling out of my mouth even though I would have preferred if they didn’t. 

“You mean it?” He asked, pulling away from me, my face still in his hands. 

Without words, I nodded. 

“You know, people have told me that they’re proud of me, or that I worked hard and deserved to be on that team, or even deserved to go farther than we did. But never that. Never that I made that team what it was, not with me being a rookie and all and Tobio being right there…” He trailed off, blushing. 

This time, I kissed him before he could finish. With my hand on his cheek instead, he melted into me. We could go back and forth like this forever probably, either one of us taking the lead away from the other while we both let it happen eagerly. 

After we somehow finished our food in between kisses and longing stares, we left the restaurant hand in hand. Shoyo continued to point things out as we passed them by, and I did my best to listen. I was distracted, though. Something about the way he beamed from ear to ear as he talked made me feel privileged to be his only audience in that moment. 

Before we knew it, we were back to his apartment. He did not shake as he unlocked it this time. The afternoon sun was hot and bright, and this made it impossible for this to be a mission of secrecy. And also, the lights were on this time around. It made sense that his roommate would be awake and home in the middle of the day, and yet my stomach turned over in shock. 

“Hey Pedro,” He called as he opened the door. 

There was a little grunt of a hello as we entered the apartment. Pedro was sitting at the dining table, mid bite as we met eyes. Awkwardly, I raised my hand into a half-assed wave. He nodded, and I nodded back. Every ounce of charm and grace I prided myself on had left my body for this interaction. 

But it was thankfully over fast. Shoyo led me past Pedro and into his bedroom. The room we had woken up in this morning, the room we spent last night in under the most unusual of circumstances. The sun came in through the window and illuminated the white sheets we left in disarray. 

“Come here,” he whispered and pulled me close to him. He grabbed my shirt collar as I leaned forward to kiss him. His lips were soft and gentle, so I fell forward into him as we both leaned backwards onto his bed. He smiled up at me, and I moved my hands towards the hemline of his shirt. 

Last night we were hungry and desperate for each other, but now in the daylight there was an unspoken softness between us. No rush, no fear, just the type of gentleness I hadn’t felt since I left Iwa-chan’s side. 


	9. Hinata, Brazil, 2016

I pulled Oikawa onto me by his shirt collar. He fell forward slowly at first, but before he knew it he was hovering over me as I laid back on my bed. The space between us got smaller as his lips met mine, and I pulled him into me even further. My hands shook. He smirked at this, acknowledging a softness I didn’t have last night. 

But he interpreted it wrong. The way he looked at me was as if we had finally found something innocent here. As if _I_ was something innocent. 

Yet as he kissed my neck I thought of Tobio. Thought of how truly innocent we both used to be back in school. **Hinata, Japan, 2015**

“Kageyama, wait up,” I called as we ran out of the locker room. The sound of his laughter combined with the squeak of his shoes. 

I laughed, too. 

“Not a chance,” he called back, clicking the bar of the door loudly. 

With both of us outside, it was quieter. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped, but other than that the air was still and warm. My muscles burned from practice, but as always I pushed myself harder for Tobio. He was always in front of me, always trying to prove that he was still better than me. 

This time, he stopped seemingly at random. The moon shone down on us, as he stretched his arms up towards the sky smiling. 

“I won,” he beamed. 

“Where were we even racing to this time?” I yelled back panting, still running but drawing closer to him. 

“Look around,” his arms dropped, and he looked at me excited. 

I stopped now close to him, looking around confused for a moment. We were just outside at school where we had been every day for years at this point-- 

_Of course._

It was where we argued and trained back as first years before we were even allowed on the team or in the gym. This spot, underneath the trees and the moon just like this was where we really became teammates. 

Tobio grabbed my waist and pulled me into him. Both of us were sweaty, our faces hot and uncomfortable, but he tilted his face towards me and our lips met. Kissing him was sacred in moments like these. 

“I don’t know where we’re going,” he said as we pulled apart, “But I don’t care we’ll figure it out.” He touched his forehead to mine. 

“You know where you’re going,” A voice from within me says before I even realize it. 

But it was true. He did know where he was going, he’s always known. He was going to go play in a professional league somewhere while I was going wherever I could manage. Even in his arms, where I would normally feel the safest, my stomach twisted and turned with uncertainty. 

Tobio grabbed my shoulders and kissed my forehead. “Do you really think that will keep us apart?” 

I exhaled a shaky breath. 

“Nothing in this world will keep me away from you, Shoyo,” He whispered. “Not after how hard we’ve fought to get here.” 

Even whispering, he sounded so certain. We kissed again because it was easier than speaking. 

Easier than lying that I wasn’t afraid, or worse telling him the truth that I was.

**Hinata, Brazil, 2016**

Oikawa laid beside me smiling and staring at the ceiling. He looked so peaceful I didn’t want to disturb him, yet at the same time, I felt almost sick looking at him. He had done nothing wrong, but his body was a reminder of the loneliness somehow. As if I would be less lonely in total isolation rather than have him here reminding me that Tobio is gone. 

I placed my hand on his bare chest and kissed his cheek. His heart fluttered beneath his skin and if he weren’t himself this moment would be sacred also. 

Our bodies fit together beautifully like we were made to be here, so I tried my best to hide my own feelings. 

“I’m having more fun on this trip than I expected,” Tohru said dreamily, turning his head towards me. 

He giggled lightly, and I tried to mirror him, but it came out more like a sigh. 

“You only have a few more days in town, huh?” 

He nodded, wrapping his arm around me tighter. I did the math in my head over and over, attempting to calculate how to get out of this safely. It would be so easy if he would just get back on his plane after the match and forget about these nights. His heartbeat steadied, though. He was too content here now. We were both in dangerous territory now. 


	10. Oikawa, Brazil, 2016

My eyelids began to ache with exhaustion. Not getting a single good night’s rest since stumbling into Shoyo’s life was starting to take a toll. But the moonlight came in through the window, illuminating his soft smile as he slept peacefully next to me. As if my actions weren’t my own, I reached my hand out, ready to gently brush his orange hair out of his eyes, but stopped myself, fingers barely hovering above his skin. The space between us was so small, and I craved for it to be smaller, nonexistent even, but I can’t put the past behind me. Inside this room, inside this bed, we were happy alone. We only needed each other and our fingers intertwined and our breath on each other's lips. 

But outside was a different story. Nobody here knew the truth, but if we behaved like this back home the whole town would be full of whispers. It was quiet now, but I could hear the rumours spin around my head louder than his own breath, so I pulled my hand away without touching him. I have already touched him far too much. 

After turning away, I got out of bed and went to the window. Cracking it open, I expected the air to be colder, to snap me out of this bad dream I found myself stuck in, but the warm breeze was sticky on my skin instead. I did not feel refreshed. Instead, my throat tightened and my eyes burned. 

I did not cry. 

_Take care of yourself in Argentina,_ Iwa-chan’s voice echoed in my head. Iwa was always so worried, but always about the wrong things. It was never that I wouldn’t take care of myself, he should have been afraid of the loneliness instead. As soon as our phone calls died off, merely months after I left, it was nearly impossible to ignore the loneliness.

_Shoyo is different,_ I repeated in my mind over and over and over again. _This isn’t like the others._ This had to be different, had to be something I could hold onto. 

I counted the days in my head again. I was leaving in only two days, and we both knew it, yet that wasn’t the only problem we had in front of us. 

I heard him whisper in his sleep. He missed poor Tobio, probably as much if not more than I missed Iwa-chan. Except unlike myself, he couldn’t keep his name off of his lips. It’s been clear this whole week he wasn’t as experienced in the art of making your lover shift shapes with your eyes closed. Betrayal was a new taste on his lips, and I was corrupting him every moment I stayed. 

I crawled back into bed as Shoyo laid there, undisturbed by my movements. A blissful smile sprawled out across his face as he dreamed of Tobio. 

Lazily, he tossed and turned. His arm found me in the dark so he pulled me close to him. Still asleep, he nestled his head to my chest. 

Reluctantly, I held him back, afraid to grip onto him too tightly. Afraid that he would wake up and realize it was me next to him all along. 

Shoyo made me breakfast in the morning again. I sat at his rickety table sipping coffee in his t-shirt while he hummed and cooked. We did not talk today. My voice was still caught in my throat from the night before, and he didn’t bother making conversation either. 

Every second that passed was beginning to feel painful. As if there was something between us now. _Does he know I heard him?_ I asked myself. Tobio’s name on his lips was still fresh in my memory as the stove cracked and sizzled. 

I wanted to forget it entirely. I begged myself to just enjoy how he looked in this kitchen on this beautiful morning and not worry about the past or the future. 

But the smile he had while he slept haunted my memory. As happy as he has looked this week, he has looked the happiest while sleeping. While dreaming of someone I will never be. 

Still humming, he slid the eggs from the frying pan to our plates. He ran his hands through my hair and kissed the top of my head. His gentle touch made my chest ache uncontrollably. 

We ate in silence, except for the sounds of forks scratching on our plates. Every word I wanted to say to him swirled around in my head, but I kept coming back to _I’m sorry. _For this reason I continued to bite my tongue. After all, what was I even apologizing for?__

____

“I’m sorry,” he said abruptly. 

____

I choked on my food, coughing in shock. 

____

“We both know this was a mistake, right?” he continued. 

____

Avoiding eye contact, I took a long drink of water. The sunlight through the window that once felt magical hurt like a hangover now. The air between us is still and dense. I do not give him the relief of agreement, even though I know he is right on every level. It is not that I want to hurt him, just that I want him to sit in the hurt he has been hiding from me the whole time. 

____


	11. Hinata, Brazil, 2016

He sat there silently. Each second that passed I feared the possibilities of what he could say more and more. But the silence was worse. The anticipation was unbearable. I considered continuing, explaining how I know he must actually agree with me even if he doesn’t want to admit it, but that was a next to impossible task now. 

I ruined everything with my eagerness. Not just this conversation, but everything to do with him. With Tobio. The way he just showed up here on this beach, like Tobio never could, or never would. It would have been better to walk away that day and ignore any temporary relief he could have given me. But now we are staring at each other without seeing each other at all. The past few days of intimacy reduced to nothing more than uneasiness. 

“You’re leaving anyway,” I said, my voice faltering. 

“I always am,” Tohru said defeated, finally breaking his morning silence. He still did not look at me. 

_This isn’t even about us,_ I considered, although saying that in this moment would have made things even worse than they already were. 

“You say that as if you’re the only one who has ever left anywhere,” My voice was colder now. 

He shrugged and took another sip of his water. I pushed my food around with my fork. 

“If you didn’t want to leave him then why did you?” He swallowed hard. 

“Him?” I asked, attempting to play dumb. 

Tohru sighed hard at this, tossing his head back up to stare at the ceiling before looking directly at me for the first time since we started this conversation. I hated myself for finding his frustration beautiful, still. 

“You talk in your sleep.” 

He grabbed his now empty plate and put it in the sink, turning the water on to rinse it off and drown my excuses out. I didn’t even know where to begin, words swirling in my mouth but not coming out. 

“I have a hotel anyway,” He continued, walking past me to my bedroom. The hinges creaked as he opened my door. “I’ll just head out,” his voice was muffled by the walls and the sound of him tossing things around trying to hastily gather the few belongings that had made their way here with him. 

He came back down the hallway, I was still frozen in the same spot. “You don’t even have to worry about a thing,” he shrugged again, still not looking at me, as he passed the kitchen table I was still frozen at. 

I wanted to stop him, to say anything. But he walked through the door without stopping. He did not slam it as he left. Instead, the gentle click of the door was louder than any outburst of rage would have been. The silence left in the apartment was hollow and there was no hope for relief now that he was actually gone. 

Pedro shuffled around, but stayed in his room. There was no way he didn’t hear the uncomfortable confrontation. Me and him got along fine, but we still weren’t that close. Having Tohru around as much as I did made things weird enough already, it was unlikely that he wanted to get in the middle of whatever was happening now. 

I threw the rest of my breakfast away, too unsettled to finish eating. Every movement I made echoed loudly, a stark contrast to the tense silence Oikawa left me to deal with. I turned the water on, so hot the steam hissed as it touched my skin, and began cleaning up the mess we made. 

My knuckles burned red in the heat, but I did not flinch away from the running water. The dish soap seeped into my cuticles, softening them before rubbing them raw. 

Time passed without my permission. I cleaned each dish meticulously, and then cleaned it some more as the water continued to pour out of the faucet. The noise began to drown out the quiet before I was done with my first dish, so I repeated the process as many times as I could. When the dishes were done, I began on the counters. Then I swept the floor. 

Carefully, I moved from task to task cleaning every inch of the kitchen, then the living room, then the bathroom. It was no longer morning, no longer afternoon even, by the time I got to my bedroom. Like a ghost, I stood by the door. He did not shut it all the way when he left, so a sliver of light poured through, but I did not look directly at it yet. 

My chest tightened as I considered opening it, pushing it aside like there was no problem at all. It was unclear what he moved when he left. I did not know what he left me with, what parts of him would be scattered across my mostly barren bedroom to remind me of the nights we played pretend. 

The not knowing was always the hardest part. 

I took a deep breath before placing my palm on the wood of the door. I took another before pushing the door all the way open. 

The truth was I did not recognize him in the disarray. Could not identify which t-shirts he tossed around, what part of the bed he unmade, which unorganized fragments were his. I wasn’t put together enough before he waltzed into my life to even recognize what parts of this wreckage were his to claim. 

This truth was a relief as much as it was a great sadness. I was not prepared to miss the shape of him he left behind, but it almost hurt worse to know he left almost no shape at all. 


	12. Oikawa, Brazil, 2016

We won the game, of course. I played beautifully and the crowd adored me, even away in Rio. They always did. I made a fun story, the foreigner with a blooming love for my new home. 

Kids gathered by the court and I did my best to smile and ask their names. Years ago I promised myself to never forget the kids. I wanted to remember each and every one, but they blurred together especially in Rio. In fact everything blurred together: the applause, the cameras flashing, the adoration. 

None of it mattered in that moment. The people I wanted to cheer me on weren’t in the crowd, I didn’t have to look to make sure of that. Iwa-Chan was half a world away, and Shoyo was here, in town, but not _here_ where it mattered. 

My eyes glazed over and I didn’t let myself really look at anyone from the crowd, or even my teammates. Silently, one of my teammates put their hand on my shoulder. A quiet sign to go. 

This was typical for games. Everyone on my team quickly learned that I am not someone to ignore my adoring fans. But normally this part of the day was filled with laughter, even when we lost but especially when we won. This time, however, with every poster and program and scrap of memorabilia I signed I could barely muster up a genuine smile. 

They must have sensed this, too. Everyone else walked away from the court knowing I’d follow soon enough. The squeaks of our shoes on the gym floor no longer sounded familiar at this moment. Everything about this was alien as I headed into the hallway outside the gym to the locker room. 

Steam filled the locker room as everyone showered simultaneously. My eyes welled with tears, hot and burning. Quickly, I turned into an empty shower and cranked the water as hot as it would go. The sound of my teammates rushing around in the stalls next to me faded to the background. I shoved my face under the steady stream of water, eyes shut tight. Water splashed into my nose, and I let it, despite the uncomfortable rush I felt in my throat. The heat loosened my muscles slightly, but even as the water beat down on me I just retensed everything instantly. 

The soft scrapes from the sand all week were mostly healed, but not enough for this insistent downpour of heat to be meaningless. The sting juxtaposed itself with a memory of Shoyo tending to my wounds. His touch was so gentle and caring and-- 

_No._

Iwa-chan’s face flashed into my mind. The tenderness of his hands were so close to me I could feel it. It was him, it was always him. Patching me up every time I needed it. He’d ache to see me like this, naked and shaking and teary-eyed even after a supposed win. 

I turned the water off slowly, letting the water dribble down my body. The steam dissipated. My body prickled with the cold air rushing into the room as everyone else shut their showers off also. It was hard to dry myself off, even with the plush towel so much of my skin had the minor inconvenience of sand burn. It was too rough to rub directly, so I patted every inch of my body instead, careful not to be too rough. 

The bus was luxurious but cold. I put my headphones in and spoke to no one. No one asked about the change in my demeanor, just as no one asked about where I had been. 

I dreaded my hotel room. The crisp white linens were left untouched. I had no need for them the time I was supposed to be here. _One more night._ Just one more. Then we’d be off to the next stop and I could leave Rio to be haunted on its own. 

That night, I slept directly in the middle of the bed, sprawling my legs and arms out as much as I could comfortably. Still, I longed for another body next to me. Anybody, really. Throughout the night I tossed and turned, my hands gripping the blankets firmly aching for them to be entwined with someone else. Shoyo’s laugh echoed through my head so loud even the low rumble of the air conditioner couldn’t drown it out. 

It didn’t help that Iwa-chan already was a ghost in these hotel rooms, even before this week in Rio. It’s been two years since I last heard from him. Two years since we even tried to reach out across the sea and countless time zones that divided us. 

_12 hours._

That’s the difference. That’s the mathematical division between me and him. The closest thing to something tangible that’s stopping us from being actually together. 

I thrashed around my bed, throwing the covers and sheets off of me in a near panic. I searched for the clock frantically. 

_One A. M._

The numbers blinked at me, and I blinked back, rubbing my eyes trying to do the math that should have been painfully easy. I stumbled out of bed, searching for my suitcase in the dark. My phone was neatly tucked inside the front pocket of my carry on, ready for the morning. My intention was to not touch it until our plane touched down, maybe even longer. 

I dialed his number, each digit still lodged in my brain. Somehow this seemed faster than finding his contact. The screen shifted as I hit dial, pulling up the last selfie we took together outside the airport years ago and _Iwa-chan_ surrounded in hearts on either side. I swallowed deep at this image, and the phone rang twice. 

“Oi--Oikawa?” He stammered on the other end of the line. 

“I love you,” I blurted out. 

There was silence for a moment. His breath was shallow, and the uncertainty in his voice, or lack thereof, cut me to my core. 

I waited for him to hang up the line. To turn his back on me again, like I had done to him countless times. More times than he could probably begin to imagine. Every face I had forced myself to forget flashed before my eyes. A montage of dark hotel rooms, of hands that had no bodies, of lips and teeth with no smiles. And of Shoyo. 

“I love you too,” he said after a long while. I unrounded my shoulders, and a smile crept across my face. “But I can’t do this now. Not after so long.” 

There was silence again. My throat was wrapped tightly in wire. I did not breathe. I did not blink. How did he know? I asked myself, unable to move to hang up the phone but also unable to speak. 

“Maybe if you ever come home,” he said hopefully, but even his hope was deflated. 

I had no home. Not anymore. Just hotel rooms and strangers and now that was all I would ever have. 


	13. Hinata, Japan, 2020

Being back in Tobio’s presence was blissful. Everytime we faced off as rivals, the electricity from both sides of the net was a strange comfort. Ever since the beginning we brought out the best, and sometimes the worst, in each other. His teammates knew him for keeping his cool, but I brought out an unease in him. Kept him on his toes as he learned to follow me the way everyone else had learned to follow me. 

But now we were back. He was putting the ball up to me again. Everything should be perfect. 

In the locker room, Tobio wrapped his arms gently around my waist. Nobody stopped what they were doing, nobody thought twice. When I kissed him there was no hiding. No secrecy. 

“Shoyo,” he drew out, grinning more than usual. I flinched. We both ignored it. 

It should be easy to fall into him, but Tohru’s breath is still hot on my neck. Years have passed, Tobio welcomed me back even when we played on opposing sides. Still, Brazil lingered. 

“Come home, Shoyo” he whispered. 

“Home?” my head falls onto his chest. His heart flutters. We were days away from the biggest game of our lives, yet somehow he seemed more nervous about our combined lives. 

“At least share a room with me tonight?” 

Reluctantly, I hum in agreement. 

The Olympic Village was flashier than it needed to be. Tokyo lost the shine after losing Nationals, and it was too close to home to be exciting anymore. Tobio, on the other hand, was thrilled. He sat on the bed, our bed, and smiled like a fool. Being so close to him was still unusual, and the smiling was on a completely different level. Even at our closest he always had trouble letting his tough exterior fall away. 

It was something I learned to love about him. He rarely smiled with his mouth. Instead his smiles were harder to notice, little signs just for me: a glint in his eyes, a perfect set, a finally relaxed exhale after countless moments of tension. 

But now he was beaming ear to ear, taking over what was once my ole. My cheeks stiffened and ached as I attempted to match him. 

“Come here,” he begged. 

I did. 

I slipped into bed beside him, wanting to curl around him, but Tohru danced into my mind. He was somewhere in this village. Somewhere close. 

Tobio placed his thumb below my chin and tilted me toward him. “Come here,” he begged again. 

I kissed him softly, and though it’s been years I thought back to Brazil. To Tohru. _He’s here somewhere._ Every time me and Tobio got back together since Brazil it was brief. Like we both knew we could never really fit together anymore, but still we tried. His moments of vulnerability were short, and every time I tried to keep the truth from him. Tried to be present in the moment enough he never dared question who else had held me. 

It was harder now, knowing Tohru was so close and yet not knowing where exactly he was hiding. He might as well have been in this very room as Tobio moved his lips from mine to my neck. I had not spoken to him since he walked out of my apartment, and I didn’t even want to speak to him anymore, but still I wondered about what I should have said instead of nothing. 

“Are you alright?” Tobio asked me softly. Concern dripped from his lips like honey. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I responded. 

He pulled away slightly at this. I reclined backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling before looking back at him. He was laying on his side now, his head propped up on his hand. 

“You’ve just been off for a while, babe,” he grinned weakly. 

He was right, of course. There had been nothing close to normal between us since high school. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I sighed and turned towards him again. We were now both laying on our sides, our faces mere inches away from each other. I could feel his breath on my face, calming and cool. 

“I’ve just missed you so much,” he smiled. “But you don’t seem as excited to be here.” 

This stung, so I kissed him as softly as I could. “Now why wouldn’t I be happy?” 

To this he laughed, and so I laughed too. There was nothing I could do other than laugh now. Nothing other than be in his presence and let him think I am happy and content. We had too much going on, too much at stake, to do anything else. 

“Can you believe we’re actually here?” He said eventually. He had already competed at the Olympics four years ago while I was still in Brazil. Surely his surprise couldn’t be about the competition itself. 

“I think this is where we were always meant to be,” I said, unsure if I really believed it or not. 

“I wish you could have been with me last time,” He said excitedly. “It’s not the same setting to other spikers. I thought I’d get used to it, but nobody spikes like you do. Nobody _gets me _like you do.”__

____

I smiled back and kissed him again. “Who else would get you like I do after everything we’ve been through?” His body relaxed in my arms. “Unless you’re just hooking up with every spiker you work with, I’d hope I’m at least a little special,” I grinned. 

____

He didn’t respond as happily as I hoped. His smile sank, and his eyes looked away from me now. “Is that all you think this is?” 

____

“Oh come on,” I started. “Of course not babe. It was supposed to be _funny!_ ” I couldn’t keep myself from laughing, trying to break the tension without knowing how much of myself I even believed. 

____

He softened a little, letting out a small laugh even though his eyes still contained a degree of hurt. I kissed his forehead and tried not to think of all the times over the past four years that he pushed me away. 

____


	14. Oikawa, Tokyo Olympics, 2020

Tokyo was smaller now after years of constantly being on the move. Argentina made the world bigger than I ever dreamed, and now coming to the city I once believed held the biggest stage in the world felt anti-climatic. The last words Iwa-chan spoke to me rang in my mind as my team got off the plane. Four years had gone by and I could still hear his voice: _Maybe if you ever came home._

In a way, I was home now. Back in this airport I’ve avoided since I left. Back in this country I don’t belong to anymore. The baby blue of our sweats felt similar to that old uniform I used to share with him, but also was an aggressive contrast to the Japanese National Team red and white I always kind of expected I would be wearing. 

It was bizarre to be ushered through this city by a kind guide speaking Spanish to my teammates. The Olympic officials brought us to the Village like we were honored guests. The weirdest part is that we _were_ honored guests. 

All I could think of after we found our rooms in the Village was finding him. He had to be here somewhere. I hated myself for doing all that research a few weeks earlier. It was far too easy to find out Hajime was going to be one of the trainers for Japan. 

With no plan at all, I set out from my room hoping to just stumble into him. The odds were low, but it was also my only option. I couldn’t risk calling him and having him not pick up. If we were meant to find each other now, fate would have to step in and intervene in order to make it happen. 

I walked down every hallway I could find. The Olympic Village was like a labyrinth, countless hallways and doors making it easy to lose my bearings. At this point, I had no idea which way was back to my room, so I had to continue. Making a left, then a right. I was outside, then I was inside, then outside again. I walked with no agenda or urgency. 

At first I looked all around me, trying to take in my surroundings and remember them for later. As the hours passed, though, even that began to feel pointless. I nodded briefly at most people I passed, some appearing to be doing something similar to me, others looking for something in particular. Countless athletes, coaches, and trainers walked all around me making this the busiest and loneliest walk I had been on in the last seven years. 

Now, I looked at the ground as I walked, everyone moving around me no longer any of my business. I did not look directly at any of them. 

Perhaps that’s why I bumped directly into somebody, my chest smacking into them before I could even realize they were in front of me. 

“I’m sorry,” I muttered out quickly, not wanting to look at them anymore than I needed to. Wanting to run away from this situation entirely. 

“To-Tohru?” My heart stopped. I wanted to run away more than anything else now. 

“I--Iwa-chan,” I stuttered. “I didn’t think… I didn’t realize I’d see you…” There was no way he believed me, and secretly I hoped he didn’t. 

“I kind of figured I’d see you at some point,” He trailed off shyly, grabbing his left shoulder with his right hand. He always was so shy when confronted. 

“It’s good to see you, though,” I attempt to break the tension. 

He nodded back, blushing. I caught myself wondering if he blushed like this during all those phone calls that we couldn’t help but argue during. 

“It’s good to have you back home,” He smiled. 

_Home._

The word felt like a dagger coming from him, especially after the last words he spoke to me. 

“Yeah, I guess I am home, huh. In a way,” I fumbled the words out of my mouth. 

He furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t you be home?” 

The blue of my uniform felt brighter, like it should have been the most obvious thing about me at that moment. 

“I’m playing for Argentina.” 

“Well, yeah,” He began. “But this is still your home, right?” 

That night four years ago echoed in my mind. Breaking down in the hotel room because I didn’t belong to anywhere or anybody anymore. 

“I guess,” I shrugged, turning around and leaving Hajime there behind me. His gaze was piercing as I walked, but I did not turn around to see his face. He made it clear there was nothing for me with him anymore. 

When I made it back to my room I sprawled out on my bed and took out my phone. The little fire icon glared at me, so I clicked my phone off then tossed it next to me. Moments later I picked it back up. 

There was Vodka in the mini-freezer, so I mixed my own drink as I swiped through that stupid app. I paced around my room, unsure if any of this was worth the trouble. A notification popped up on my screen. 

I counted backwards from 80 trying to not seem too eager. An old unfortunate habit of mine leftover from never spending too much time in one place. 

I opened the notification, the screen already blurring just a little. Just enough. 

An hour later a swimmer from France was at my door. 

The next night a gymnast from China. 

The next night I didn’t even pay attention or ask any questions. 

The nights blurred together in the Village. I never woke up hungover, and I stayed sober for matches, but reality slipped away from me with every passing day. Before I knew it, it was the night before the finals. Argentina versus Japan, the showdown everyone was waiting for. 

Everyone, except me. 

Seeing them around in the gym the past few weeks was bad enough. I did my best to keep my head down when there was a possibility I would run into them, but shying away from problems was never my style. Hiding wears down on me. 

I mixed myself another drink and stared at my phone. I did not open that app this time. Instead, I let the loneliness swirl around the room with me as I drank and thought about the future. Thought about Hajime and his smile, of Shoyo and his laughter. Their faces blurred together as I laughed into an empty room. It was so funny knowing they were there, _together_ , and would be tomorrow. 

_I can’t let them win_ , I thought to myself over and over. It repeated in my mind as I pictured them together on the other side of the net. _No._

_This will be my moment._


	15. Hinata, Tokyo Olympics, 2020

My knees almost buckled as I went to jump one more time. Tobio saw me just out of the corner of his eyes, and still after all this time it was enough. The sting of my hand colliding with the ball made my body go numb for a moment. Fatigue rippled through every one of my muscles as I braced for the ground. Instinctively, I began to move, scanning across the net for whoever received the ball next. 

But no one did. 

Someone in pale blue dove but didn’t make it in time. The ball hit the floor and my stomach dropped out of my body. I couldn’t move or even blink. 

Tobio wrapped his arm around me, spinning me on my heels. His eyes were pleading as much as they were celebratory. The gym roared around us, but it faded away as I looked into his eyes. Neither one of us said a word. We didn’t have to. The whole world was watching us in that moment. 

Time slowed, and he leaned in to kiss me. 

I kissed him back, my face burning and my body giving out as we held each other up. After everything, it was finally me and Tobio on the biggest stage in the world in Tokyo and we were champions. Neither of us flinched as we shared this moment so publicly. 

After the game we headed to the locker room. Everything about the Olympics was bigger and flashier than previous games, and the locker room was no exception. The adrenaline coursing through my body was the only reason I didn’t completely collapse from exhaustion. I turned the shower on, the water as hot as it would go, just to feel the water beat down on my back. 

I had no strength to really shower, that would have to come later. Instead I was just barely able to rinse the sweat off before stumbling out and drying off. My Team Japan sweats looked brighter now. The simple red, white, and black design reminded me of Nekoma High even after all of these years. Kenma was in the stands, probably. They _all_ were probably in the stands, actually. Everyone I played against was either with me now or supporting me out there. 

_Except for Tohru._

Oikawa was the only one on the other side of the net that knew me as well as my teammates. It was probably exhilarating for Tobio to beat Tohru again on the world’s largest stage, but even then I could feel him break slightly the whole match. 

Or maybe what I felt was myself. 

This was the greatest win of my life, and it happened at home, but still I was thinking about him. 

When I entered the hallway outside of the locker room, it was nearly silent. There was only the sound of my footsteps as I let the joy and exhaustion carry me. Until there was another sound. 

I turned my head slightly at first, not expecting to see anything noteworthy. But there was a glint of Argentinian blue that was impossible to ignore. I turned my head away from him, looking forward again as I continued to walk down the hallway. 

“Oh come _on_ ,” Tohru called as he continued moving towards me. “You can’t even say hello now?” His voice was rough yet inviting somehow. 

I stopped walking. Tohru’s footsteps continued drawing closer and closer as I remained still, not yet turning to look at him. 

“You know you’ve missed me,” He sighed, placing his hand on my lower back. I jumped slightly, but prayed he didn’t notice. 

“So what if I have?” I still didn’t turn to look at him. 

He stood behind me, his hand making its way from my lower back to my stomach before he could pull me in to him. His body was firm against mine, and I could feel his steady breath and even heartbeat. 

This meant he could almost definitely feel my own heart pounding inside my chest as soon as he touched me. 

“So what?” He mocked me before spinning me around on my heels. “Of course you have, Shoyo.” He pushed me back against the wall, and I let him, maybe even begged him to. He looked me in the eyes as he leaned in close to me. His lips hovered above mine, but he refused to move in actually kiss me. 

Like a fool, I tried to lean in to close the gap. He moved just barely out of reach and smirked. “Like I said, you’ve missed me bad Shoyo,” he laughed causing my face to run hot. 

Finally, he leaned forward, kissing me harder than he used to back in Brazil. Gone was the gentleness, replaced now with bitterness and anger. I could taste it dripping from his lips, and even though it set off every alarm in my head I couldn’t get enough of it. 

He moved one of his hands under my shirt, playing with the waistband of my sweatpants but never doing anything about it. “Fuck you,” I whispered under my breath and he laughed harder. 

“Admit you want me,” He teased. 

He moved his hand down from the waistband, gently rubbing my hip and thigh, purposely avoiding anywhere that would actually feel good. 

“Fuck, fine,” I moaned out. 

“Say it,” He pressured, his fingers dancing around. 

“I need you, Tohru,” I begged. 

He pulled away swiftly. 

I felt like I was going to collapse entirely as he walked away. I was breathing hard when I noticed I wasn’t alone in the hallway after all. 


	16. Kageyama, Tokyo Olympics, 2020

_What’s taking Hinata so long_ , I wondered to myself. We were all supposed to gather in the gym before the medal ceremony, but he was still in the locker room. _It’s normal for him to take a while_ , I reminded myself. He was always the last one out of the locker room of course he would be no different. 

Still, excitement and worry mixed making it impossible to tell the two feelings apart. The clock continued to tic, but we still had time before it would be too late. 

“Just go check on him,” Sakusa shrugged. 

I nodded and left the gym. The hallway that leads from the gym to the locker room is long and not very well lit. Far down the hallway two people stood together against the wall. Something about the Olympics brings this out in people. Heightened emotions from wins and losses made people behave boldly. Nothing new. 

Even I kissed Shoyo in front of the whole world when we won earlier. 

But that was nothing like whatever was happening at the end of the hallway. Nothing like all the hook-ups people feel the need to partake in here and at the Village. As soon as people realize the competition is _real_ here, some of the competitors break and decide having a good time will soften the blow for when they inevitably leave here empty handed. 

As I approached the couple, some features became recognizable. The baby blue of Argentina’s uniform stood out even in the darkened hallway. And although it had been years since I’d seen him before today, I would recognize that show off anywhere. Nothing about Oikawa made this surprising. Of course, after he lost today he’d immediately find somebody to mess around with. 

After realizing it was Oikawa, I stopped walking for a moment. It was momentarily too uncomfortable to continue, so I considered staring at the ground as I hurried past but found myself frozen for an unknown reason. 

But then Oikawa moved away from whatever sorry soul he had found. He headed down the hallway in my direction, so I resumed walking assuming it was now safe to continue. 

Something about his smirk when he saw me made me uneasy. He laughed as he passed me, shaking his head and looking not at me but through me. He never even stopped walking for a second, his movement fluid and calculated somehow. 

Then, I looked past him, towards the locker room, towards the person he was walking away from. 

My whole body burned red hot when his orange hair came into view. He was slumped against the wall, too dazed to even notice me at first. I wanted to scream and yell and cause a scene but no words came to me. Instead, I just stared at him, mouth agape, waiting for him to notice me. To acknowledge me. 

He turned to look at me in slow motion. Our eyes met, his lips parted. Perhaps to apologize. Perhaps to begin whatever list of excuses he thought I needed. I did not listen, did not give him the chance to speak as I turned around faster than I came and headed back down the now never-ending hallway. 

I expected to hear him call after me. To at least hear his footsteps as he followed in my direction like he needed to anyway. 

But there was nothing but the echo of Oikawa’s laugh in the air. Nothing until the Japanese national anthem began to play, signifying what a great victory this all was. 


End file.
